Lovers of Antiquity

Lovelier than one can ever see

Are the pages of their own story.

Beautiful they are with regret.

Mysterious they are with doubt.

There is power in those passages of memory

Where living and dead can walk together.


It is the weight of it all that presses

Like a lovers embrace.

It is the way an introduction to the past

Is forged within an intellectual capital.

It is where ones mind can be both clear and clouded 

In the spires of its mysterious architecture.


No mind is given to what is beyond those places. 

In this place they find solace. 

While they are away

In that central city of self

They disregard what is slipping away

Beyond the walls of hindsight clarity. 


They remain there still now.

Recalling those past ages again.

Reliving them.

As though they might change them by sheer will power.

Yet the future wafts farther and farther away

Leaving them caught in their own antiquity. 

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